


Lobster Alfredo

by saintnoname



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 03:35:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3159734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintnoname/pseuds/saintnoname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It happened one week, two days, and nine hours after Clint died.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lobster Alfredo

It happened one week, two days, and nine hours after Clint died. It was two months and eight days before what would have been their 20th anniversary.

Natasha was the one who came up with the idea for the dinner.  Steve and Sam agreed that it sounded like a great idea.  When the three brought the idea up to Bucky, he also agreed that it was a good idea--much to the relief of his friends who were still waiting for him to close himself off.  So far, he'd been spending time with others, much of which he even initiated.  He seemed to be holding up incredibly well, given the circumstances.  But his friends still held their breaths, waiting for him to fall apart.  After all, falling apart was what people did when their life partner passed away.  And when Bucky fell apart, his friends would be the support he'd need.

It was a week and two days before the dinner that Bucky got the visit.  Not even a call, but a personal visit.  Maria Hill showed up at the door of the house Bucky and Clint shared.  When Bucky answered, she said there was no easy way to tell him this,  but there had been a landmine in Kuwait, that it was instantaneous and painless, and the remains would be sent home soon.  She said she'd keep him posted.

Bucky thanked her for the visit and quietly closed the door.

Everyone else got a phone call.

Natasha wanted Bucky to be the one to choose what they would eat, since the dinner was for him and they would be cooking it at his house.  Bucky decided on alfredo linguine with lobster, salad, garlic bread, and of course, wine. 

A week after Clint died and two days before the dinner, Natasha took Bucky with her to Whole Foods to select the ingredients and to pick up some other things for him for the week to come.  That was what people did when a loved one was in mourning: ensure the person's refrigerator was stocked.

"How are you holding up?" Natasha asked Bucky earnestly as they turned down a frozen food aisle.  "I want an honest answer."

Bucky shrugged.  "I think I'm doing about as well as I can, given the circumstances."

Natasha's brows furrowed.  "Are you sure?  Do you want me to spend the night?"

Bucky chuckled bitterly.  "Why?  So you can make sure I don't kill myself?"

"No!  I just mean so you won't be alone."

"Because you're afraid that if I'm alone, you'll find me hanging from the rafters tomorrow morning.  But the only time I've even thought about killing myself?  The only time it's ever even crossed my mind?  Was when Steve first brought me back, and all those memories returned.  But I wouldn't do it now.  Not over this.  An frankly, I'm insulted you would think I would.  If you couldn't tell."

Natasha stopped pushing the cart and touched Bucky's shoulder.  "I really didn't mean it like that.  I meant that it must be hard without him, and I want to make sure you know I'm here to make it easier for you in any way possible."

Bucky sighed.  "I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have gone off on you like that."

"I understand."

Bucky turned to her.  "No you don't."

The slap resonated throughout the aisle.  Bucky brought his hand to his jaw where Natasha's palm had made contact with it.  He looked up and down the aisle.  Nobody else was there.

"Don't you ever say that to me," Natasha said with a quiet fury.  "I had a husband once, too.  A lifetime ago.  For the longest time, I thought he was dead.  And don't forget Clint was one of my closest friends, and my lover for a brief period of time.  And now, he's gone.  So don't you dare try to tell me I don't understand what you're going through."

Bucky sighed.  "You're right.  I wasn't thinking.  Of course you understand.  I was upset, but that doesn't make it okay that I said that."

Natasha brought one hand to the side of Bucky's face, meeting his eyes.  "And I'm not the only person who cares about you."

Three days after Clint's death, Bucky sipped deep from a glass of wine.  It was after Clint's memorial service.  There was no body to bury; Clint had been cremated as per his wishes.

A heavy hand rested on Bucky's shoulder.  He turned around to see his late husband's older brother.

"Hey," Barney said.

"Hey," Bucky replied.

"Listen, I know I haven't always been the best brother-in-law, but I want you to know that I'm here for you.  You brought my brother a lot of happiness--more than you could ever imagine.  Thank you."

Bucky took his brother-in-law's hand in his and shook it.  "You're welcome.  And likewise, if there's anything I can do for you..."

"I'll let you know."

One week, two days, and seven hours after Clint died, Natasha, Steve, and Sam showed up at Bucky's house.  After an excited greeting, the four old friends got to work cooking.

Sam and Steve worked on the linguine while Bucky and Natasha made the salad and garlic bread.  Natasha flashed Bucky a grin as she pulled the bread out of the oven.  "Like old times, right?"

Bucky smiled at her.  "Yeah, kind of."  He added a light vinaigrette to the salad and started tossing it.  He carried the bowl to the table.

"Steve, will you set the table?" Natasha asked as she transferred the hot garlic bread to a plate.

"Yeah," Steve replied.  "Of course."  He got to work and Bucky joined in helping him.

"Pasta's ready," Sam said over his shoulder.

"Let me help you," Natasha said, hurrying over.

Sam shook his head.  "Just set out a hot pad for it."

Natasha brought the garlic bread and a hot pad to the table.  She, Steve, and Bucky sat down to wait for Sam.

Seconds later, Sam brought out the pasta.  His friends smiled at him as he set it down.  "Alright, eat up," he said as he took his seat. 

Bucky served himself some of the lobster alfredo as the others began serving themselves the other food.  The four of them passed around dishes until they all had each type of food on their plate.

"This smells really good," Steve remarked.

"It does," Bucky replied.  "Let's eat it."  He took a bite of his lobster alfredo, then smiled.  "Well, what do you know?  It tastes as good as it smells."

His friends laughed, then started eating their own food.

The four friends ate and talked and laughed almost like old times, except with one glaring omission: the lack of a certain archer.

"...and then there was that time when the Major sent a bunch of people out looking for us because he'd been told we weren't in our beds," Steve said between laughs as the meal wound down.  He'd been recounting his and Bucky's adventures in World War II for the last five minutes. 

"And of course, we were still dressed like superheroes when we went back to camp and saw a ton of other people patrolling the grounds.  So we couldn't go back right away, because we couldn't risk them seeing us in costume.  So we ended up having to change behind these bushes outside of camp."  That got a laugh out of everyone.  Everyone except Bucky.  Bucky who, unnoticed by everyone else, had dropped his fork in the middle of Steve's last story.

"So we were dressed like soldiers again, and we headed back, and the next thing anybody else knew, we were back in our beds.  When they asked us where we went, Bucky--and at this point, Bucky was still sixteen and new to this--got this deer in the headlights look and said, 'We were out taking a piss.'"

Steve, Sam, and Natasha all cracked up.

"That's a good one," Same said, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye.  "Man, I thought I'd heard all your crazy World War II stories, but I don't think you've ever told me that one."

"Well, there are probably others I haven't told you.  I just can't think of them right now."

The thud resonated throughout the room.  It was so loud and sudden that it made three experienced superheroes jump.  The three turned to where the sound had originated: the head of the table.

Bucky sat crumpled against the table with his face in his lobster alfredo.

The paramedics pronounced Bucky dead on the spot.  Later examination determined a brain aneurism to have been the cause of death. 

The death of James Buchanan Barnes left medical professionals scratching their heads.  They would not have called him a high risk when it came to aneurisms, but it was an aneurism that killed him.

Steve, Sam, and Natasha would later go to the Scarlet Witch seeking answers science couldn't give them, but perhaps the mystic arts could.  After they told her what happened and what the doctors said, she closed her eyes.  The Scarlet Witch nodded slowly.  "I think I know what happened."  She opened her eyes, focusing them on the others.  "This is only a theory.  I'm not saying I know for sure what happened.  But if you want to hear it..."

She gave them the chance to answer, but none of them did.  She took their silence as permission to continue.  "I think he wanted to be with Clint.  He didn't want to die," she clarified.  "But he missed Clint.  On a conscious level, he wanted to carry on.  But unconsciously, his body found a way to shut itself down, so he wouldn't have to live without Clint anymore."  She looked at each of the three of them.  "But that's just a theory," she repeated again.

James and Clint were buried together.  James passed so soon after Clint that he hadn't even decided what to do with Clint's remains yet.  Clint had only said that he wanted to be cremated, not what he wanted done with the ashes, so the urn had been sitting in Bucky's closet. 

The urn with Clint's remains was placed inside the coffin next to Bucky, and Bucky and Clint were buried in one coffin in one plot with one headstone with two names.


End file.
